The Proposal
by swishandflickwit
Summary: "PARDON?" Draco's smirk widened and he eyed her, his head cocked to the side and his right eyebrow raised as if he was thinking she was the daftest thing to ever walk this earth. Which he probably was thinking. No way, she thought, this is a trick, no way he said– "One day, you're going to marry me Hermione Granger." Oh, the ways in which one proposes to another can be interesting.
1. Chapter 1

_Scratch, scratch, scratch._

Pause.

_Scratch, scratch, scratch._

Pause.

_Scratch, scratch, scratch._

Pause.

_Scratch, scratch, scra–_

"For Merlin's sake Granger take a _bloody_ picture just please. . . Stop. The bloody. _Scratching_!"

Said Granger squeaked and something spilled.

"Oh no!" She cried, her mouth hung open, horrified. "My essay!"

She scrambled for her wand (Why isn't it within reach? She scolded herself in the confines of her head) and found it buried deep within her bag (she found it underneath the couch).

She rushed to her essay, shouted the spell and frantically waved her wand in a flimsy attempt to save her essay, which was now covered in black ink.

"Scourgify!" She shouted, "Dammit, _SCOURGIFY_!"

A jet of red light shot out from her wand and in a flash, her essay was reduced to nothing more than bits and ash.

She wailed.

"MALFOY!"

She whirled around to face the blond man and found him sprawled across the couch with an arm placed lazily above his face so as to cover his eyes. Not moving, Malfoy sighed and mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, "_What_ _now_,Granger?"

"YOU _RUINED _MY _ESSAY_!"

He flinched. "Merlin dear woman, stop _shouting_." He whispered, willing her to keep her voice down by setting an example.

Hermione just stomped her foot. She was well aware that she was yelling and knew that she shouldn't have been. Though. . . She was _also_ well aware that it irked him. And whatever irked Malfoy was something she found worth continuing.

"YOU RUINED MY ESSAY! DOES THAT NOT MEAN _ANYTHING_ TO YOU?"

He sighed again. Take it from Hermione Granger to completely ignore anything he had to say.

"So, make a new one. I'm pretty sure you're completely apt to do so."

"OH I AM MORE THAN '_APT TO DO _SO'! BUT I WOULDN'T HAVE TO IF _YOU_ HADN'T BLOODY RUINED THE _FIRST ONE_!"

She crossed her arms and glared at him. Internally, he rolled his eyes.

"If there's _anyone_ ruining _anything_ here then it's _YOU_! How could I have possibly ruined your damn essay, Granger, if I have done nothing but _lay _here, _happily lost in my dreams_! Which is really difficult given YOUR INCESSANT SCRATCHING AND YOUR STARING!"

. . .Well, so much for _not _shouting, he thought.

"Me? You _dare_ accuse _me_ of ruining something? What could you possibly have that can even be ruined?"

Then, she rethought his statement and widened her eyes.

"Wait. . . S–_Staring_?"

He smirked and at the sight her blood boiled and her lips pursed.

"Yes Granger, that's exactly what you were doing. Staring. At _me_."

She spluttered and her already boiling blood spread right to her cheeks and down to her neck.

"I – I. . ." She gulped, and struggled to think of what to retort. "I did no such thing! Besides, you can't be sure, _your eyes are closed_!" She squared her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. His eyes had indeed remained shut the entire time.

"Gran_ger_. . ." he started, drawing out the _e_ in her name, "I could feel the intensity of your gaze. You were practically eye-raping me."

She blushed. Like, _really_ blushed, harder than she already was which was incredulous! Surely she couldn't be any more red, in her current, flushed state.

"Well! I wouldn't have been staring if you would just sit somewhere else, _not_ directly in front of me and, oh yeah, what was that other bit? IF YOUR UPPER HALF WEREN'T COMPLETELY BARE!" She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, it's nearly November. Who goes around without a shirt on in November?"

"Granger, it's Hogwarts. Ever heard of heating charms? Fireplaces? They're very common in the Wizarding world, fireplaces too are all the rage for centuries now in the Muggle world, I hear."

Hermione huffed and proceeded to completely ignore that jab at her intelligence. She continued.

"And there was _no eye raping_ going on!"

His eyes shot open and instantly, he was on his feet, his face merely inches from her own and his eyes shining with a brightness that reminded her of a little boy on Christmas day opening his first present. It sort of left her breathless and spinning.

The thought, she meant. Not his proximity. _Definitely_ not his proximity.

"So you're not denying it?" His smile was so wide the corners of his eyes curved upwards, making smiley faces of their own. She thought the look quite lovely on him and that he should do it more often.

"By Jove, Granger, you _were_ staring at me!"

Then she frowned and remembered _who_ she was thinking _what _about. She knew she was acting like a petulant child but how could she not when she was dealing with an equally petulant _and _spoiled brat…

…A petulant and spoiled brat who happened to look handsome even if his face was nothing but a blank, emotional canvas that became even more breathtaking when he smiled.

She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts and took a step back.

"Yes. I mean no, I mean," She took a breath, "Of course I'm denying it! What reason could I possibly have to look at your vile face, much less _stare_ at it? It's almost laughable."

As if to prove a point, she threw her head back and gave a nervous laugh. You liar, a voice whispered to her in her head, given what she was _just_ thinking two seconds ago. Malfoy however, grinned in a, to her, decidedly wicked manner.

"I didn't mean my face, though, that too is completely understandable. I meant, my _body_."

She crossed her arms – feeling very uncomfortable and flustered because he had the upper hand in the situation (truly no use denying it now!) – and turned her head to the side then said, "I'm not talking to you."

He apparently found her amusing for he chuckled. It was such a rich and enchanting sound that she found her head slowly turning towards him again, her glare faltering and her gaze, dropping. . .

"You're doing it again."

She groaned. "You're _right in front of me_! Where else could my gaze have landed? And if you would just _wear_ a bloody _t – shirt_!"

"Ah," He wiggled a finger in front of her face. "But you could have just easily averted your eyes to the wall, or the floor. Or just kept them to your essay!"

"But. . . But," She shook her head.

"But _what_?"

His eyes suddenly widened and his face broke out into a dazzling grin that she compulsively felt like shielding her eyes. Then quickly realized the childishness of that.

"But Merlin's smelly, poka – dotted, underwear. Hermione, YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH ME!"

"I most certainly am NOT!"

"No, you are! You truly, really, honest–to–Merlin _are_!"

Proving to herself that she truly was regressing to a five-year-old, cantankerous child, Hermione stomped her foot.

"Gods, only in true boy fashion could you interpret a _NO_ as a bloody _YES_!" She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "So I lingered maybe a second too long at your _bare torso _and suddenly I'm irrevocably smitten? Though I know it may be difficult for you, don't be so egotistical, Malfoy. I'm not in love with you! I'm not, I swear!" Hermione sneered, lacing as much disgust to her voice as she spat, "I could _never_ be in love with someone like _you_!"

For a moment there, the playful twinkle in his eyes vanished. She realized what she said and remorse quickly spread throughout her body like wildfire. His blank stare was present only for a moment though, when a smirk once again found its way back onto his lips. Her remorse suddenly replaced by suspicion.

He sure bounces back quickly, she thought.

Hermione took another step back, re–noticing their proximity and cleared her throat, eyes downcast.

"Ok, that was harsh but look I–How did you even _come _to that conclusion–"

"Save it, Granger."

She watched as he tapped his pointer finger to his chin, his eyes closed as he breathed in and out deeply. He remained like that for at least two minutes and she contemplated on whether she should shake him, fearing he had fallen asleep. But then his eyes flew open and stared directly into hers.

She didn't want to do it again, but she really couldn't help it. She blushed.

If Hermione was being honest with herself, she could confidently say that she wasn't in love with Malfoy. However, that didn't mean that she wasn't the least bit attracted to him because then, that would be a lie. Though his personality left nothing to be desired, he was _gorgeous_, in every. sense. oftheword.

He had fine, platinum hair that was fashioned in a way that it seemed like he just got out of bed and lazily fell into his eyes if he so much as curtly nodded his head. His eyes were the most striking (and admittedly, her favorite) part of his face. They were a calm and cool grey, piercing and intense in its gaze. He had a pointy nose, a strong jaw. . . He had the face of a well–bred aristocrat.

Hell, Malfoy was the _poster child_ for aristocracy.

No one could really help it if they were attracted to him so she couldn't really fault that part of herself.

So when he uttered. . . _those _words, she thought it was just that side of her playing tricks with her senses.

"_PARDON?_"

Draco's smirk widened and he eyed her, his head cocked to the side and his right eyebrow raised as if he was thinking she was the daftest thing to ever walk this earth. Which he probably _was_ thinking.

"Are you deaf? Never mind, apparently you are."

"Err. . ." (she still didn't. . . couldn't. . . _wouldn't_, acknowledge what he said) "Pardon? I swear I heard you say I'd–"

"Don't worry love," he grinned at her. "You heard perfectly well."

At first all Hermione could do was stare. She resisted the urge to scratch her ear in the hopes that it would clear her hearing but that was unlady like so she didn't do it. Instead, Hermione did the only logical (at least, in her opinion) thing to do.

She laughed.

"You're. . . You're. . . You're hilarious, Malfoy!" Spluttered Hermione when her laughing had ceased enough for her to say a couple words. "Good one! For a second I thought you were being _serious_. Merlin." She continued to laugh.

Malfoy just shook his head and tapped her nose. "And you're adorable Granger." He said dryly, "On the contrary, I was being perfectly serious. _Am_ being perfectly serious."

At that her laughter ceased entirely and she looked intensely at him.

No way, she thought, this is a trick, no _way_ he said–

"One day, you're going to marry me Hermione Granger." Said he with his mouth by her ear and his voice a husky whisper.

And before she could ask him _what the hell _he meant, much less get a word in, he threw her one final smirk and was off in his room in their shared Heads' dormitory, the door shutting quietly behind him.

Hermione stood frozen on the spot, her jaw dropping precariously to the floor and her face beet red (will her blood ever cease _rushing_?). She blinked slowly and touched her head, wondering if she was dreaming. She looked around her in a daze when she noticed something on the table where she was previously doing her work.

Where there were once ashes, there was now her essay, perfectly fixed and free of excessively, splattered and spilled ink. Across her, folded neatly on top of the spot where Malfoy was napping, was a shirt.

_His_ shirt.

All of a sudden, everything that happened during the past fifteen minutes rushed to her and her blood boiled.

She took the shirt and chucked it at his door.

"So is that a proposal!" She screeched angrily in the direction of his room.

"YOU ARROGANT _PRICK_!"

She seethed.

"Stupid Malfoy."

* * *

**A/N: Nearly done with this. I have been working on it for a while and just wanted something light. I hope you guys enjoy it, if you could let me know your opinions in a review that would be great.**

**Thank you and have a pleasant day! **


	2. Chapter 2: Part I

_**Dedicated to The Charminator for making my day with her awesome reviews! :)**_

* * *

"Presenting…"

Hermione held her breath and smiled.

"Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter!"

Boisterous cheers and lively applaud quickly followed as Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, now Potter, entered the magnificently arranged tent for their reception.

Hermione was the first to greet the newlyweds and was closely followed by Ron Weasley. She gave Harry a friendly kiss on the cheek after she had shouted, "Congratulations!" in order to be heard over the catcalls for the boy-who-lived and his wife. Then she gave Ginny a hug and held her friend at arm's length to say, "I'm so happy for you!"

Ginny squealed a "thank you!" before giving Hermione another bone-crushing hug. Hermione gave an airy laugh once she let her go and excused herself from the hoards of people lining up to personally greet the couple to get herself a drink and find a place to seat herself; preferably a dark corner where she could hide and bask in her self-pity and jealousy.

Unfortunately, no seat quite fit the description. Then again, she could always opt for a seat near the wedding cake, suppose, she could just _eat_ away her self–pity and jealousy…

Ok, that was a joke.

Hermione smiled at the pair. It didn't matter what she felt though cause it wasn't about her. It was about Harry and Ginny, her dear friends. The truth was their love was so blatant for each other despite the challenges it took to get to this point in their lives that Hermione could only marvel.

Which is exactly why it made her a little sad to know that she was one of the few, if not the _only_ person, amongst her peers that wasn't married or in a relationship. The twinge of self-pity and jealousy she felt earlier stemmed from the doubt of her ever finding a match in life. She loved her friends, the lot of them, but it was getting quite tiring to be the only one without a partner in their outings or weekly pub gatherings. She could feel her friends' pitying gazes upon her back every time she would stand to leave, very much alone and it was wearing her down.

She approached the seat next to the wedding cake warily and sat. She glanced around to make sure no one occupied the seat first by checking for valuables then she scanned the other seats. The only other occupant of the table was a stout man, mid-fifties, she guessed, with a crooked nose that reminded her oddly of Professor Snape, her potions teacher from Hogwarts.

Only fatter.

With slightly more wrinkles. (What could she say, Snape was a bat, but he was a bat that aged _quite_ well)

And of course, the signature Red, Weasley hair.

A red–haired Snape, how utterly _revolting_.

To solidify the thought, Hermione shuddered.

Her musings were interrupted when someone placed a hand on her shoulder. She tensed, but when she looked up and was met with Ron's familiar, baby blue eyes, she relaxed.

Never failed to charm the ladies, that one.

"What's a pretty lady like you doing in a lonely place right here?"

Hermione laughed. "Now, now sir, who said I was alone?" She nodded her head towards the crooked-nosed gentleman who was now slumped over on his chair with his hands resting on his bulging stomach, his shoulders slowly rising and falling with every heavy breath he took.

Red-haired Snape was fast asleep and snoring up a storm.

Now it was Ron's turn to laugh as he took a seat beside her. "Ah, I see."

There was a moment of silence between the two friends who, together, eyed their long-time, best friend as he gave his wife an affectionate kiss on her hand. But Ron sensed there was something bothering the lovely lady – whom he considered his second sister – beside him that he could almost feel her loneliness inside himself as well. He didn't know how this intuition came to be. Perhaps it came with knowing each other for so long – thirteen years of friendship, they were now twenty-four, Hermione, twenty-five – and experiencing potentially life-threatening events together during the span of their friendship.

He turned his gaze towards Hermione and put a hand on her shoulder. "You alright?"

Hermione faced him and saw the genuine concern in his eyes that she had to smile. "Of course I'm alright Ron. What gave you the impression I wasn't?"

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe it was the way you were looking at the cake, with a mad glint in your eye." He teased and she hit him playfully on the shoulder. "Shut up!" She exclaimed with such poor authority that Ron just laughed at her again. But she sobered up when asked her once more, with such seriousness it scared her a bit. She didn't really want him to see right through her at the moment.

"No Hermione, really, what's bothering you?"

I ought to tell him, she thought. And for a moment, she considered it. But her eyes wavered to that of the lovely couple seated in the front of the room and she smiled softly. This day wasn't about her after all.

"Perhaps another time."

She looked over his shoulder and told him, "Go back to your wife, Ron." with a wave of her hand. Then she teasingly added, "We wouldn't want to give her any ideas about our secret love affair. Wouldn't want to be discovered!" She joked.

At first she thought Ron wouldn't let it go, but he chuckled and turned around on his seat so he could get a view of his wife, Luna Lovegood. He gave her a sultry wink in which she blushed then returned to the conversation before her. He sighed happily and gave Hermione a lopsided grin fit for a love struck fool.

She shook her head.

"Go back to your wife." She commanded again together with a knowing look and Ron happily obliged but not before asking, "Won't you sit with us? We still have room for one, you know."

Hermione chanced a glance behind him at the table where he sat, and grimaced when she saw it filled with couples. "No thanks." She shrugged nonchalantly, "I think I'll stay here, by the cake. Besides, I should like to better acquaint myself with Red-haired Snape over here. Get to know the family and all."

"Red-haired Snape?" Ron's eyes widened in confusion, and he turned to look at the man.

She nodded, "He's from your side of the family, isn't he? Red hair and freckles. I called him that cause he resembled Snape but–"

"With red hair."

"Exactly."

"And fatter. More wrinkles too."

"That's exactly what I thought! See, we were friends for a reason."

"_Best _friends." Ron corrected. Then he scratched his head. "You know, I don't actually know who the hell he is…"

"Oh?" Hermione looked at the unknown man thoughtfully, "Well it's always good to make new friends."

Ron shook his head amusedly at her, "Hermione Granger, you are so very strange…"

"Yes," she smiled brightly, "but it's for that very reason I keep you all entertained."

He nodded in agreement. "Hmm, and so very true."

So with a kiss on her forehead and a parting wink, Ron returned to his table where he greeted his wife with a loving kiss at the corner of her mouth. Hermione sighed with delight, and perhaps a little more jealousy. She surveyed the room with slight contempt for it seemed she was the only single person in attendance.

Well, her and Red-haired Snape.

Hermione shuddered again; the sight of him truly _was _revolting.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and returned to gazing longingly at the cake. Perhaps, I could still eat my self-pity and jealousy away after all, she thought with a ravenous lick of her lips.

"You're not thinking what I think you're thinking now, are you, Granger?" Drawled a smooth voice.

Hermione stiffened and glanced behind her. "Depends. What exactly are you thinking I'm thinking, Malfoy?"

He chuckled amusedly before taking a seat beside her and replying, "Oh you know," and he raised his eyebrows, "You're ogling that cake for dear life, Granger. I see the way you look at it, slowly stripping it down, piece by piece before finally taking a lovely bite out of each and every one. Each delightful taste is a space in your heart filled. Only momentarily, of course."

Hermione turned away from him so he could not see her blush. Seven years later and he could still make her blush.

"But seriously, you can't just sit here, wallowing morbidly. What would Scarhead say? Surely he'd blame it on me and have my head on a silver platter to serve for his dessert." He said in all seriousness.

She gave him a pointed look and replied quite crossly, "Malfoy, if Harry had your head on a silver platter, you do know it'll be on _my_ silver platter to serve as _my _dessert, right?"

He had to laugh at that one and she found herself smiling quite a bit at her own little quip as well. Hearing him laugh again after such a long time took her back to all those years ago. That night in the Heads Common Room when he had caught her staring and he declared…

Yes, well, that was in the past, she thought quickly. And there was no use bringing it up now.

"So what have you been up to Granger, old girl? Heard you're brewing up a storm in the Ministry."

"Yes, I _work_ in the Department for Care of Magical Creatures. Though, try as I might, not enough people really want to back me up in my betterment-of-the-house-elves cause. Come to think of it, not enough _house elves _are backing me up for their betterment. Though I can't imagine why, it _is _for their benefit!"

Malfoy shook his head. "Haven't you gotten it into your supposedly know-it-all skull, my beloved Granger?" She bristled at the 'beloved' part. He made it sound like she was a clueless toddler despite it being an endearing term, "House elves actually _like_ to serve people. That's how they're programmed and there's nothing you can do to change that."

She huffed. "Yes well, it couldn't hurt to _try_. At least I was able to pass that bill wherein house elves have the choice to work for employers now and are not to self-harm."

At that she beamed and Malfoy chuckled at her. "Oh, really?"

When he chuckled, Hermione immediately suspected something was up. She regarded him suspiciously.

"This law also states that it is mandatory for all families with house elves to free them and if they are still willing to work so be it." She took a breath and recited, as if she were in school again, "According to section one, paragraph one of the Magical Creatures' Bill of Rights, house elves in every household are to be freed through the giving of clothes by the employer to the house elf. If the house elf willingly chooses to continue working for their current employer, the house elf is then entitled to salary and vacation leave which is to be granted by the employer."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And _you _are an employer, which means that this is something you should know, which means this is something you should adhere to, which means _you have house elves to be freed_."

He smirked. "And if they're not?"

"Not? _Not?_ That means _you're _breaking the law!" She poked him in the chest. "Well?"

"Well what?" He replied haughtily.

"Are you doing as the law commands?"

He flicked a piece of lint from his shoulder (which was a total lie, she suspected, for he never would allow such filth unto his body. There wasn't even a wrinkle in sight!) then turned to her with a look of supreme smugness on his face saying, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Outraged, she started poking him again (quite painfully, in fact) that he grabbed the wayward finger and held her hand to his chest.

"You wound me, do you know that? In the most terrible ways! Your finger alone holds quite a punch."

"Oh don't be such a _pansy_!" And she poked his chest again for good measure. Before he could retort with utmost indignation, someone spoke.

"Did somebody say Pansy?"

They both turned to the sound of the voice and there she was.

"Hello Darlings!" Pansy declared her entrance by grabbing Draco's cheeks and pecking them thrice then subsequently doing the same to Hermione.

"Pansy, always _not _a pleasure." Said Malfoy dryly as he stood, wiping the smudge of lipstick he was sure Pansy purposely left on his cheek just to irritate him.

"Draco, always such the _non_-charmer." She replied with equal lack of fervor.

"Pansy," Hermione said fondly.

At the greeting, Pansy shot her a dazzling smile and gripped her hand, forcing her to stand as well. "Hermione dear, I've a proposal for you!"

Hermione's own smile dropped instantly and she groaned at the word 'proposal.'

It never bode well for her, after all.

Pansy was a colleague of hers in the DCMC, which shocked her at first. Hermione didn't know her to be such a supporter of house-elves but apparently Pansy was practically raised by them, her parents being too busy climbing up the social ladder to bother taking care of their only child (at which Pansy would often exclaim, "Thank goodness they only sired one child, Merlin knows they couldn't take care of one, what more, well, _more_?"). As a result, Pansy cared deeply for their well being, as they were her constant companions throughout childhood.

The result of Pansy being an only child though (and being raised without human or children interaction early on) was that she tended to meddle into everyone's lives that she cared about, in an effort to miraculously impact their lives. This included Hermione, whom she had taken an instant liking to when she witnessed her passion for elfish welfare.

Unfortunately, making a 'miraculous impact' in Pansy's world meant she would not stop until she found Hermione's one true love through a series of very tedious, very _painful _blind dates. At her fifth, disastrous attempt to match make, Hermione was certain Pansy took the meaning of 'blind dates' literally and picked her dates from her address book by, 'pointing to the east, pointing to the west and pointing to the one that she liked best' all with her eyes blindfolded.

Hermione for the most part, didn't mind being considered one of Pansy's closest friends and vice versa. But – and she'd suffer through so many of these things, even if prior to each one she told herself it was the absolute _last _– she knew enough to confidently say that each time her dear friend approached her with a 'proposal' she was set up for doom.

She was set up, period!

"Please Pansy, please, please _please, _not another blind date! I told you, it was the absolute last time when you set me up with Flint!"

"Oh but Hermione, this is the _one_!I just know it!"

"The last time you said 'this is the one' you set me up with Pucey and the ponce drank too much liquor and _threw up on me_!"

Pansy looked properly abashed. "Yes well, admittedly, that was an oversight. But I couldn't have seen his drinking problem from miles away! Besides, not every date I've set you up with has been bad!"

"Really? Would you like to bet on it?" Hermione glared at her and placed her hands at her hips. "Right then, let's start from the beginning. The first time you set me up, it was with Nott who was so introverted that we barely exchanged two words – 'hello' and 'goodbye'! Then the second time around it was with Zabini who now was _so _extroverted that he did nothing but talk! About _himself_! Then, my personal favorite," she continued in sarcastic tones, "the time with Berrow, who was nothing but a creep and stared at my chest the _entire _night–"

"Well, your cleavage is quite something Hermione–"

"I was wearing a turtleneck!"

"Ok!" Pansy raised her hands in defeat. "So I made a few mistakes…"

"_FEW?_"

Pansy ignored this. "But," and she raised her big, round eyes to Hermione in a effort to disarm her, "I just want to make a miraculous impact in your life!"

Hermione though, was having none of it. "The only thing miraculous here, Pansy, is your atrocious taste in the men you set me up with!"

"But Hermione, I just don't want you to be alone!" And she looked so sincere that all the vexation left Hermione completely. This time, Pansy's big, round eyes were giving her the look she so very much hated, the look that she felt said that Pansy pitied her when deep down she knew her friend was just concerned for her.

Just as Hermione was to give her begrudging consent, a throat cleared and both girls jumped at the sound.

Malfoy, she thought, bewilderingly. She had forgotten he was there.

Why was he still there?

"She won't be alone."

Pansy scoffed. "Of course she won't." She turned to Hermione. "I saw that look of yours and I know you were about to say yes, even if it was grudgingly." She took Hermione's right hand and tugged gently. "Come along then, Warrington is waiting."

Hermione turned to bid Draco a relieved farewell by raising her free hand but was prevented from doing so by his own hand catching hers.

"I mean, she won't be alone, because she will be with me."

"Pardon?" Both girls asked, both with looks of befuddlement on their faces though Pansy's revealed her curiosity more while Hermione seemed to be on the verge of asphyxiation.

"Hermione darling, are you quite all right?" Pansy whispered with barely concealed amusement.

"_I_ will be Granger's escort for the remainder of the evening." Draco continued, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

At first, Pansy was hesitant. But, she saw the way Draco looked at Hermione and, well, could it be but…?

It seemed there was only one way for her to find out and without a second's thought she let go of Hermione's hand.

"Well then–"

At that moment, Hermione's own hand, the hand previously in Pansy's grip, shot out to hold hers again and she mumbled, in harried tones, "Pansy, wait–"

Pansy smirked and tapped a finger to her chin, "What was it you said about my, _atrocious taste in the men I set you up with_?"

"N-no, that? I, I was just pulling your leg–"

Pansy gently pried Hermione's hands from her own and shot a brief look at Draco, who looked mildly concerned for Hermione.

"Granger, if you're really not well–"

"Nonsense," Pansy said, "Hermione's quite all right. Aren't you?"

Hermione shook her head just as Pansy nodded. "Yes, I see you're in _perfectly _capable hands." She eyed Draco with much approval while he eyed both girls interestedly.

"Pansy…" Hermione pleaded in a whisper, one last time.

She merely winked, and disappeared with a delicate wave, a "Ta, darling!" and a sashay of her hips.

Incorrigible witch, she thought, but her good friend nonetheless.

Hermione expelled a breath.

"I didn't know you were such good friends with Pansy."

She whirled around to face him, her guard up and her expression wary, with good reason.

As evidenced by her earlier blush, seven years may have passed but the presence of a certain Draco Malfoy still had the ability to turn her brain into mush and get her body reacting in non-Hermione ways.

It was so unfair that he still looked as good as he did after all this time! It was so much easier to avoid him if he wasn't so attractive. Even if they were only twenty-four, how she wished his hairline would start receding already or perhaps wrinkles would appear all over his face, just so he wouldn't affect her so.

But that was not the case. His hair still looked an organized mess, falling in a way that made her want to run her hands all over it. He had the same pointy nose she found appealing, his jaw remained sharp and by the way his dress shirt was clinging to his torso, she could tell he was still very much in shape and even more filled out in the shoulders and chest area. Then there were his eyes, his cold and gray eyes, a stormy sea in their good days and positively mercurial during their bad days.

…and still her favorite part about him.

She narrowed her eyes at herself.

Traitorous, traitorous mind. Treacherous, two-timing body!

"And I thought you were."

Finally, she turned to face him and saw him holding out the chair for her. She took a seat and ignored the fact that her heart started racing at the gentlemanly gesture.

"What gave you that impression?"

He pushed her chair in and reclaimed his seat next to hers.

"Well, it's just… in school…"

He raised an eyebrow as if to say, 'do go on'.

"You two seemed really close. She was always near you, you included her in your group, she was always sitting next to you in the Great Hall and in classes, you even took her to the Yule ball. In fact, I heard you were dating each other up until fifth year and…"

She trailed off at the look on his face, one of pure amusement and astonishment even, his chin propped up on a closed fist.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I never knew you cared about, much less noticed me at all."

She blushed (indeed, she did that a lot when she was around him – she attributed it to some Malfoy bug) to the roots of her hair and huffed, trying to reclaim some dignity by retorting, "I don't! It's just that, living with a person for a year, you get to know things. Plus, I have great attention to detail!"

"Fine then, name the girl Terry Boot last dated when we were at Hogwarts."

"Trick question, Terry Boot was dating but not a girl. He was dating Michael Corner at the time."

Draco stared at her, clearly impressed. "Cor, Granger. I'll give you that one." He nodded and inwardly she sighed with relief. "Fair enough, Pansy and I dated very briefly in fourth year but, it didn't really work out."

"Why?"

He visibly cringed. "She was more of a sister to me and I her brother so ultimately it would have felt like incest." But then, the sparkle in his eye returned. "But do go on, tell me more about what you've noticed about me."

She narrowed her eyes, "It takes you three hours to get ready in the morning because you like to take time to style your hair, which makes no sense to me because it always looks a mess!"

"I was going for a just-had-sex-look, still am! It's a big hit with the ladies, you know." He waggled his eyebrows at her. She ignored this.

"Marmalade and peanut butter is your favorite snack, which is disgusting by the way–"

"How would you know, you never tried it!" She glared at him further and continued.

"You have more skin care products than any girl I know–"

"Hey, great skin is _not a _joke."

"You like to leave your shoes out by the portrait hole cause you don't like wearing them in your room–"

"I think that's perfectly reasonable, you can never know what you've stepped on."

"Your shoes are on you the entire time you walk, of course you know what you've stepped on!"

"Anything else I should know?"

"You snore."

At that, he raised an accusing finger at her and said, "I do not!"

For the first time in the evening, it was Hermione's turn to smirk. "Oh, the silencing spells I had to put up just so I wouldn't hear you…"

Draco glared at her. "I don't believe you, you're lying and you're doing this to purposely annoy me."

She laughed. "Suit yourself, Malfoy. But just remember, it's _you_ who doesn't hear yourself when you sleep. But I did." And she flicked his nose for good measure.

He looked at her wryly. "How mature of you, Granger."

"I know. It's so hard to be the only grown-up in the table." She replied with mock grievance. "But maybe I don't want to be mature." He turned his entire body towards her and raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"What! Is that so hard to believe?"

"Have you met yourself? Do you know who you are?"

"Yes and yes and, I think that's the problem."

Draco opened his mouth to give a witty response – something along the lines of how her and maturity were like Potter's sight without his eyeglasses, indistinguishable – when the emcee of the reception chose that moment to announce the arrival of dinner.

Waiters appeared out of nowhere and served the three occupants of the enormous table their meals. For the first time, Draco noticed there were more than two people in the table than he and Hermione were staying at.

"Granger, who is that?"

"That's Red-haired Snape."

Draco stared at her, then at Red-haired Snape, then her, and Red-haired Snape before bursting into raucous laughter.

Hermione cracked a smile and tried to suppress her own laughter. It wasn't that she found Red-haired Snape funnier than the last time she had looked at him, she was over the resemblance. It was just that she had never seen Malfoy look so unguarded as he did now, all smile lines and relaxed posture.

I suppose he gets it too, she thought.

"What?" He asked when she continued to stare at him in amazement.

She shook her head, "Nothing. Nothing at all."

He gave her a peculiar look and before he could question her further she asked just to distract him, "So where do you work, Malfoy?"

He took a drink before answering then said, "Mm see well, that all depends."

"Depends? On what?"

"On what happens tonight, of course!"

A little cautiously, she questioned, "And what will happen tonight?"

He smiled mischievously. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

She scowled. _Wouldn't you like to know? _She thought mockingly in her head. She was beginning to hate that line.

He noticed her temperament and merely smiled just to aggravate her more. The remainder of their meal was spent with the sound of silverware clanging against plates as they ate in the absence of verbal conversation; though their actions told a different story. Draco endeavored to bring Hermione out of her sullen mood and amuse her by periodically flinging peas at Red-haired Snape who, miraculously, managed to remain asleep the entire time. She tried to be disapproving but lost it when one of the peas landed in the hole of his bellybutton through his dress shirt.

"10 points to Slytherin for Chaser Malfoy's stunning shot!"

Hermione stifled her laughter long enough to speak. "Chaser? I thought you were a Seeker through and through? You're certainly built for it."

Draco's eyes sparkled. "Noticing my build now Granger? Though I shouldn't be surprised, you always were eye raping me."

Hermione groaned and hid her face behind her hands to mask the blush that threatened to spill all over her cheeks. "For the last time Malfoy, _there was no eye raping going on!_"

"Besides," He went on, deciding to save her the embarrassment. For now. "I'll only be a Seeker if you're on the team. Cause you'd definitely be a _Keeper_."

Hermione was once more consumed in a fit of giggles. "Gods Malfoy, is this how you pick girls up? That's pitiful! They actually fall for that sort of stuff?"

Offended, he ignored this and went on with another topic. "We never did finish our earlier conversation."

"Which one, the one of Red-haired Snape? The questionable status of your house elves – which you haven't answered by the way – or, Merlin forbid, more about _you _you conceited man–"

"Actually, I meant the one about _you_."

"Me?"

"Yeah, and I quote, 'Yes and yes and I think that's the problem.' End quote. Ringing any bells?"

Astonished, she gaped at him with wide eyes and replied, "You heard that?"

"I know you're used to your morons not paying attention to you–"

"Harry and Ron aren't morons!"

"–but I was and I heard it loud and clear. Now, I believe we should further expound on this topic of your self-esteem, if only these damn servants would stop interrupting us!"

Said "servants" once again appeared out of nowhere to clear their table of their plates and replace them with their dessert dishes and accompanying cutlery.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Seriously Malfoy, only _you _of all people would call these decent people servants. Honestly, would it kill you to address another person _like they were actually another human being like you_?"

"How would we keep the peasants in line then? Heavens, no," he shuddered. "Too much effort, they might stage a rebellion."

"You're incorrigible!"

"And you have low self-esteem!"

She stared at him with her mouth agape and suddenly felt highly insulted by this comment. In hindsight, it wasn't really all that offensive (beats being called a Mudblood any day) but she realized then that she forgot how much of a prat Malfoy could be because she was actually _enjoying his company_.

But that comment reminded her of exactly whom she was with and she made to leave when he grabbed a hold of her hand. She glared at him and tried to shake him off but he held firm.

"Let go of me!"

"Where are you going?"

She tugged once more and glared at him harder. "Away from you."

He tugged back, "Don't be silly, I didn't know your self-esteem was _that_ low, now we really do need to talk."

"Argh! This is exactly why I want to leave. You have no filter, whatsoever. I can't believe ladies far and wide brag of your charms when it is so obvious you have none–"

"Well, to be fair, one has to be a lady to fall for my charms–"

"_What the hell is wrong with you?_"

"Just sit back down, you silly bint!"

"No! I'd rather spend a night in a pit full of snakes than spend another second with you!"

"You're in luck sweetheart cause you're looking at the king of the snakes himself."

"Gods, you are such an _ass_–"

"And you're being a prissy bitch. Just sit down!"

"No."

"You're causing a scene, you wouldn't want to do that in the wedding of your best friend, would you?"

At that, she momentarily ceased her struggle and looked around her. Indeed, the occupants of their neighboring tables noticed the commotion she was making and she had to fight a blush. Her gaze travelled from then to that of Malfoy's face and it was then she caught his smirk.

She frowned heavily, the bastard was manipulating her and she was falling for it! If she caused any more of a scene, surely Ron would notice and it would only be a matter of time before Harry would too and that would mean taking time away from their wives just to concern themselves with her silly little tantrum.

Malfoy's smirk widened as he saw the realization seeped into her eyes and she wanted to smack his face silly because she knew that he knew that she knew, she now had no choice but to comply. She glared at him harder as she took a seat, praying to the Gods may be that her gaze would be strong enough to make Malfoy disintegrate into nothing but ashes.

Alas, it did not go to her favor, as most of the things that night were wont to _not _do.

"Atta girl." He said patting the hand that he held in his own. He apparently hadn't let go. As he looked down at their clasped hands, it was out of the blue that he said, "You have pretty fingers."

She blinked. "_Pardon?_"

He smiled something charming and replied, "You heard me."

"No, I don't think I quite did. Unless you said that I had pretty fingers."

"That's exactly what I said."

She blinked some more. "You're crazy."

He tapped her nose, so reminiscent of that time in the common room during their seventh year, and said "And you're adorable Granger. You really do have pretty fingers."

"Uh, no." She shook her head at the strange feeling of déjà vu. "I had the habit of popping them during my years in Hogwarts and they've grown stubby because of it. Ron and Harry used to say that no one would want to marry me, all cause the stubbiness would get in the way of me being able to hold a wand and 'please my man' or some other rubbish they'd spout off from the top of those dirty little heads of theirs."

Draco chuckled, "Those idiots are wrong, you of all people should know that." He brought her fingers to his lips, lightly kissing each knuckle. She gulped.

_What is happening? This is not real_, she fervently thought.

He leaned in closer, gazing heatedly into her eyes as he said, "Because, I'll marry you, if you'll recall."

She did not bother attempting to stop the rush of blood to her face, that comment coupled with the close proximity of his lips to her own and the waft of his perfume that reached her nose had rendered her into a complete speechless mess.

Suddenly, the intensity of his stare melted into mirth as he reclined in his chair, his expression screaming smugness. "I suppose you _are _a lady after all because that, Granger, is how I charm the ladies over. _You _just fell for it."

She spluttered, finally, albeit still in a decidedly flustered manner, regaining a bit of her senses. "I did not!"

He scoffed. "Oh please. Pupils dilated, pulse racing, breath coming in in short gasps, you had all the signs of attraction. Admit it, after all these years you _still _find me attractive!"

"I hardly call looming over someone else's face 'attractive.' And besides," she glanced at their still clasp hands, "How could I not be immobilized, I'm not the one letting go, am I?"

Over the course of their trip back to reality, she endeavored to be free of his grip yet each attempt ended in failure until she simply had to stop trying.

"Your point?" He drawled.

"I'm not the only one with an attraction here."

"Ha! So you do admit it?" Then he flashed her one of his positively sinful grins, indicating just how oh-so-pleased he was.

That grin should be against the law, she wanted to say but she also didn't want to encourage him. Instead, and trying not to fall for any of his moves again, she concentrated on their hands and noticed him playing with her finger, giving her hand an experimental squeeze and touch as she desperately tried to ignore just how tingly it made her feel on the inside.

As tough as Hermione was, she was still a single woman who was, as evidenced numerous times in their recent interaction, not entirely unsusceptible to Draco Malfoy's looks and charms. She must have been some kind of masochist because half the time, he wasn't even pleasant to her!

Now, she devoted the entirety of her existence to knowing the truth of things and this thing, this _man _of the Draco variety was something she simply couldn't comprehend, how is it that one moment, he could infuriate her then turn her insides into jelly in the next? This man was certainly her kryptonite and she certainly didn't appreciate not understanding why.

Before she could further delve into this complexity, she was snapped out of her musings when he proclaimed, "I meant what I said, Granger. I have every intention of marrying you."

Well, when he went around saying things like that, it was no wonder she was reduced to a girly mess each time they had a close encounter.

Thinking him to be tricking her once again, she decided not to take anything he said from there on at face value and simply rolled her eyes.

"And here I thought I was marrying _you_." She remarked sarcastically.

His grin widened. "Glad you're warming up to the idea."

She made to smack him when he announced, "Oh look, Harry and Ginny are about to cut the cake!"

She turned and saw that indeed, her best friends were near the cake and were about to do the whole ceremonial cutting of the cake then feigning-feeding-it-to-each-other-cause-everyone-k nows-we're-going-to-dump-it-to-the-other's-face. Ginny was quick to duck Harry's attempt though so it was only him who ended up with a face full of icing and cake.

The audience, including Hermione, let out a hearty laugh and Ginny, already regretful (or you know, at least pretending it) proceeded to wipe Harry of the mess on his face and gave him a kiss on the cheek. When the couple returned to their seats, it was then everyone was served their own slice of cake.

"Ah, a red velvet cake for a red haired wife and his red haired in-laws." He announced, poking his cake around.

"You don't like red velvet?"

"As a matter of fact I don't. It's colored chocolate! Might as well go for the _real _chocolate then. Why, do you like red velvet?"

Hermione, ever the opportunist, saw a chance to antagonize him and so gave a wicked smile.

"Actually, I do like it." She stated, using her fork to cut a big slice of her piece and lifting it near her mouth as if she was going to bite it, "But I think I like it better when it's on your face!"

At the last minute, she flicked the piece of cake and it landed right smack in the middle of Draco's face. There was a beat of silence before Hermione burst into laughter.

"Are you sure you don't like red velvet, Malfoy?" She gasped out in the middle of her fit, "Because I have to say, it looks positively scrumptious on you!"

Draco, until now, remained utterly silent but Hermione was laughing so hard that she probably wouldn't hear him if he said anything.

This was also probably why she didn't see it coming when he dumped his cake on her head.

Instantly, her cackling died.

"Well, now who looks scrumptious? You look simply ravishing pet."

She screeched, "MALFOY!"

He smirked and she thought, Stupid, stupid man.

* * *

**A/N: I know, it's been a long time but I seriously hate this part. I can't get the story to follow the path I have envisioned for it, ugh, and it was getting way too long hence, the splitting of chapter 2 into parts. Believe it or not, I finished chapter 3 before this but chapter 2 just kept giving me problems.**

**Anyway, I think I made good progress, this is approximately 4,000 words more than the first chapter so, yaaaay! Big leap! Though, still not my best work. *sigh* Sorry guys. :(**

**And I'm sorry for the delay guys. I'll have Chapter 2, Part II up as soon as possible.**

**Also, sorry for the plethora of grammar errors. Was too lazy to read over it for like, the millionth time. Please, just point out the glaring ones and I'll get on them ASAP as well. **

**A very warm thank you to each and every one of you who reviewed, followed and even favorited my story on the basis of the first chapter! I love you guys, seriously, you have to know that.**

**Just as well, thank you for your patience and thank you for your time! Stay tuned for the next instalment of The Proposal! :)**


	3. Chapter 2: Part II

_**Special mention goes to R-E-B-E-C. Thanks for adding me to your community! It's an unbelievably huge **_**_honour for me. :)_**

* * *

_**Previously, on The Proposal**_

"_Are you sure you don't like red velvet, Malfoy?" She gasped out in the middle of her fit, "Because I have to say, it looks positively scrumptious on you!"_

_Draco, until now, remained utterly silent but Hermione was laughing so hard that she probably wouldn't hear him if he said anything._

_This was also probably why she didn't see it coming when he dumped his cake on her head._

_Instantly, her cackling died._

"_Well, don't you look simply delicious pet."_

_She screeched, "MALFOY!"_

_He smirked and she thought, Stupid Malfoy._

* * *

"Doesn't feel so good when you're on the receiving end, does it?" He drawled, crossing his arms.

"Malfoy!" She shrieked once more and nearly lunging to grab his neck and _squeeze_.

He dodged her attempt and merely tutted. "I suppose this makes us even now, so no need for your banshee antics."

"Malfoy, you complete and utter prat! I threw a piece of cake at your _nose_, you dumped the entire slice ON MY HEAD!

"I'm going to _murder_ you, Malfoy." She muttered venomously. Draco, however, looked not at all chagrined, but rather seemed quite pleased with himself judging by the smirk that turned his lips upwards.

He stood up and offered her his hand.

"Come on then, let's get you cleaned up."

Still very much miffed with him, she got the remaining slice from her head and smeared it over his outstretched hand. Only then did she get up, walking swiftly and ignoring the curious looks being thrown her way while looking for the two pairs of eyes that did matter.

A glance at Harry and Ginny, swaying so softly and lovingly while gazing into each others' eyes, all but confirmed that she need not worry she had distracted her friends.

When she exited the tent, someone called to her, "Where are you going, love?"

In her haste, she had once again forgotten about the prat's presence. You'd think it was impossible, but those few moments of peace were wonderful while it lasted. Of course he just had to impose himself once again, he never did take well to being ignored unless it was what he wanted.

Which, in this case, was the exact opposite.

"Where does it look like I'm going? I'm going to get cleaned up. In the bathroom."

"Great, I'm going with you."

She stopped in her tracks.

"What are you talking about, no you aren't."

"This is the Weasleys' hovel–"

"_BURROW_."

"–you can't honestly expect me to believe that they have more than one bathroom, can you?"

"Fine, but why can't you just wait your turn? Didn't your parents or your nanny or whoever it was who raised you, teach you that when you were younger?"

"_Parents_." He retorted."And didn't yours ever teach you that it's good to share?"

Hermione, really desperate to rid herself of the sticky sensation, huffed and broke into a run.

"I'M GETTING TO THAT BATHROOM FIRST!" She yelled over her shoulder, while pelting cake pieces at him.

"Merlin Granger, you actually hit me. In the eye!" He cried back in astonishment, before running after her. "You cannot outrun me you crazy bint, my legs are longer than yours!"

The intellectual, learned, logical, rational, _sane _part of her knew he was right. She was a paper pusher for most of her time at work while he was an Auror. There was not a chance in hell that she would make it to that bathroom first.

The rest of her though, and at the moment that was a _big _chunk, ignored this and continued pumping her legs faster.

And of course, pelting whatever piece of cake she could find on her body, onto Malfoy, no matter how miniscule a piece it was.

Hermione had the added advantage of course, of knowing the Burrow much more intimately than Malfoy ever could and so knew exactly where she ought to carry her legs to. However, the moment she neared her destination, Malfoy – who was not far from her in the first place – sprinted and reached the door of the lavatory at exactly the same time as she did.

Inevitably, they were stuck.

And humorously, this is how newlywed Harry Potter saw them.

"Well… this is certainly a sight."

Hermione and Draco ceased their struggling, and screeching – "Your monster hair is trying to strangle my neck!" (Draco), "Your pointy chin is poking me in the face like a knife!" (Hermione) – then turned to Harry, Hermione in surprise and embarrassment and Draco more in amusement.

"Hello Potter."

"Malfoy."

"Harry!"

"Hermione… what's going on?"

"But I, what are you doing here? You didn't see me leave, I made sure! You-you were dancing your first dance as husband and wife with Ginny, oh Merlin, you _left _Ginny on the dance floor!"

"Whoa, Hermione, relax. I didn't leave Ginny on the dance floor." Harry chuckled, "You know I hate to dance so as soon as Bill asked to dance with her I left."

"But–"

"And you know it will be a while before I get her back, she has many brothers after all and equally, much to my displeasure, many male friends. Also," he gave her a pointed look, "I didn't defeat the Dark Lord by being obtuse, did I? I think I'd notice it if my best friend disappeared from the crowd. I was worried about you."

Hermione shook her head regretfully, "Oh I'm so sorry Harry, but as you can see, I'm in a bit of a pickle. I'm being followed around by a megalomaniac." She motioned her head towards Malfoy.

"A very handsome megalomaniac, might I add. I'm also the Devil incarnate."

He flashed them a sinful grin and Hermione glared at him.

Harry nodded sagely, trying not to laugh at the sight the two made, all tangled limbs and smeared with cake.

"I take it the megalomaniac slash Devil incarnate has a certain affinity for cake then?"

"Oh, that reminds me, excellent cake Harry! I absolutely _adore _the red velvet!"

"Thank you–"

"Anyway," He gave both of them pointed glares for interrupting him. "I don't really have an affinity for cake, unless…" Malfoy paused then gave her a leer, "Well, unless it's on Granger here, of course."

Hermione choked on air and Harry on a laugh. These two really are amusing, he thought.

"Which brings us to our reason for being here," Malfoy continued. "I was just about to… clean her up. With my _wand_." Then he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry could no longer contain it and burst into giggles, almost girly in their nature for the situation really did tickle him pink.

Hermione, on the other hand, was not amused.

"Yes Malfoy, you will die today and it will be by my hand."

"Granger dear, to tell you the truth, I really don't mind. It would be some way to go."

Hermione covered her face with her free hand, for the other was lodged rather uncomfortably between her and the door. "Oh my God, I'm being followed around by and am stuck in a door with a megalomaniac slash the Devil incarnate slash a _pervert_. All while being watched by my _supposed _best friend as he laughs his bowels out!"

Harry finally calmed down enough to disentangle the two manually.

"Sorry Hermione." Harry grinned, not looking sorry at all.

It was then Malfoy promptly shut the bathroom door and locked Hermione out.

Outraged, Hermione banged on the door. "Malfoy! Open up you repugnant knave!"

Harry took Hermione by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "Hermione, I think it best to let him finish. After all, there's not much you can do seeing as you seemed to have left your wand."

Indeed, she patted her sides for her beaded bad and found that she couldn't feel it. She surmised that she probably left it on the table in her haste to get away.

"Damn," she muttered.

"Indeed!" Replied the muffled voice of Malfoy through the bathroom door, "Good thing I have mine right here!" To emphasize his point, the two bodies surrounding the door suddenly felt the warm rush of magic as Malfoy charmed the door even more securely shut than before.

Harry, patting her on the shoulder. "I suggest once Malfoy's done and you're cleaned up, you two should take a walk around the grounds. Cool off a bit. I daresay you'd be garnering a hefty amount of unwanted attention if you entered the tent once again, especially with Malfoy who, by the looks of his megalomaniac slash Devil incarnate slash pervert and may I now add, slash stalker (since he won't seem to leave you alone) tendencies, will not let you go in a few minutes before or after him, am I right?"

Despondently, she nodded.

"Then it's settled. There were far too many Slytherins in that tent anyway. Ever since you and Ginny became such good friends with Pansy, my life's been invaded by snakes."

Hermione made a face, "Tell me about it." Reminded of her horrid blind dates.

He merely laughed again. "Anyway, thanks Harry. And sorry for worrying you again."

He waved a hand in dismissal, "Don't sweat it, what are friends for yeah? And Hermione, you're more than a friend, you're family. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for your and Ron's help."

Suddenly touched and maybe feeling remiss in her best-friend duties, Hermione threw her arms around the Boy-Who-Lived's neck and gave him her first proper hug of the evening.

"Congratulations Harry, really. You deserve every happiness that comes to you, don't ever forget that."

Harry hugged her tighter in thanks and bid her goodbye with a kiss on the cheek and a smile.

Once his footsteps faded as he made his way down, Malfoy muttered, "Is the sickening display of love and affection done?"

"Hey! I'll have you know that–"

It was then that the door abruptly opened and Hermione roughly shoved into it.

"What the hell–"

Though how he managed it, she'll never know, cramped as they were. A flick of his wrist and Hermione was all cleaned up. She looked at her hands and dress and saw no signs of red, much to her relief. Then she glanced at her reflection in the mirror just to make sure there were no longer traces of cake as well. Her eyes then landed on Malfoy's reflection, he was stood behind her in the mirror, and she could feel his eyes trace the path her fingers took as they lightly traced her face then hair.

She suddenly felt shy, never having been so close to Malfoy before. She could feel the heat of him seep right through her clothes, his breath cooling the blush on her cheek and his eyes burning holes into her own.

Softly, she said, "My hair was up."

Right now, it fell in messy tendrils around her head, only few clips keeping it up for the others had fallen on her mad dash to this place.

Draco reached up and with surprising gentleness, removed the remaining pins from hair then, looking directly at her as he smiled a small smile, murmured, "You look prettier with your hair down."

His fingers lightly skimmed the tendrils at the tip of her hair.

And Hermione thought, No, this is why the ladies fall for you. He was barely touching her and yet, her heart insisted on beating its way out her chest and into his palms. No, it was his eyes, always his eyes, and the way they looked at you as if you were the only thing consuming his every thought.

She cleared her throat.

Where did _that _heatedly severe and dramatic thought come from? And, dear Merlin, was it _hot _in the bathroom or what?

She took a step to the side, towards the door. "Thanks. For cleaning me up, as you so adequately put it." She said teasingly, to lighten the mood.

Malfoy took a step back to put a little distance between him and also cleared his throat.

"It's quite alright." He grinned, and just like that all heady tension in the room dissipated and the playful manner about him earlier was back.

"Now, about that walk?"

* * *

The two exited the Burrow and walked outwards and away from the tent housing the wedding guests and towards the outskirts of the small forest laid behind the Weasleys' household, speaking on all manner of things. After all, what little they were able to catch up on about each other was interrupted each time.

A few minutes into their walk she lightly pushed him.

"I really do hope you treat your elves well, else I shall have to send law enforcement upon you."

Ever the gentleman, Malfoy pushed her back.

"I'll have you know woman, that I give all three house elves of the Manor two days of each month as vacation time, all expenses paid to the destination of their choice. I give them nice clothes too. Both luxuries I must shove down their throat much to my dismay."

Hermione grinned happily, her smile a beacon in the night with its brightness.

"That's alright. It may be to your dismay, but it is very much to my pleasure."

Smiling back, he took her hand.

"I'm glad. I want nothing but that, your pleasure I mean."

He gave it a squeeze and strangely, did not let go.

Even stranger still, she did not mind at all.

* * *

"So about those blind dates of yours…"

Hermione groaned and shut her eyes.

"_Don't _remind me."

Draco laughed and tugged her closer to him. They stood to a stop.

"No come on now, share."

"Well, you pretty much heard the brunt of it during Pansy's arrival. I had dates who were too quiet, then dates who were too full of themselves, then dates who would leer at me, then," Hermione paused, contemplating on whether or not she should say it.

"Then?"

Smirking and figuring, why the hell not, she tilted her face at him in amusement. "that one date who would leer at other men."

Expecting him to roar with laughter at her past mortifying predicament, he took her by surprise when he raised a finger and caressed the side of her face down to her chin.

"If it had been me on that date, or any date with you for that matter, I would not have it in me to take my eyes off of you. Much as I feel like doing now."

She stared incredulously at him.

"You're pulling my leg, aren't you?"

"Oh?"

Closer, he tugged her once more.

"What makes you say that?"

Hermione shook her head to clear it. She knew, for much like her past experiences, that Malfoy and proximity did not bode well for her sensibilities.

She'd go so far as to even say, they were a lethal combination for her womanhood in general.

This entire night was lethal for her period. Malfoy's mercurial moods and her equally confusing reactions to them were raising her blood pressure, so it seemed.

"You say such pretty things. Too pretty, really. Surely you only mean to beguile me?"

He smirked and bent to kiss her hand.

"Is it working?"

Yes, oh yes. There went her health, her womanhood. Dead. Just gone, with the words _Death by Malfoy charm and hypertension._

Pulling her hand away from his grasp, she frowned – at him and her inappropriate thoughts. Indeed, Malfoy and proximity was hazardous to her mental and physical health.

"I think you know all too well the effect you have on me, Malfoy."

He laughed.

"Sweet, darling Granger. I think no man could ever beguile you, lest you wanted them too."

Hermione planted her hands upon her hips, irked.

"What's that supposed to mean! That I sit around and allow men to manipulate me, so that I may become their pawn?"

"No," he replied, suddenly very serious but still a twinkle in his eyes remained, "it means that I intend to become that man."

_What? _

"It also means, that I've decided where I want to work now."

Again, _what?_

"I didn't even know you were looking for a job–"

"I am."

"Or even _need _one–"

"I don't."

"Don't you run a highly successful apothecary business?"

"I do, and more." He smirked. "Naturally."

"Naturally." She repeated mockingly then rolled her eyes. But her curiosity, insatiable as ever, returned.

"So why–"

"Like I said, I – Draco Malfoy – desire to become the man you allow to beguile your senses and also, for all intents and purposes, to become your husband since you," he waggled his eyebrows, "so graciously proposed earlier."

Hermione was about to vehemently deny him and perhaps nail his corpse against the nearest tree when he took that opportunity to slip his lips between hers.

It was a kiss, in the strictest sense of the word; just a pair of lips atop another and yet it was sweet, like a tender caress of her mouth that was almost ghostly in its intensity but striking all the same. It was enough to send her knees buckling and her breath leaving her.

The two shared a barely-there kiss that was true to its nature for when Hermione opened her eyes, he was gone, not even a sound to indicate his apparition or a hint of his shadow amongst the branches of the trees.

She silently cursed at her gullibility, having been swept up by his charms and proposal. Or, consequently, what _her _silly proposal led to.

And what on earth did he mean by that job?

She sighed and muttered to herself. "Oh, Granger you old girl, what have you gotten yourself into now?" She shook her head, dazed.

"Stupid Malfoy."

* * *

**A/N: Hullo everyone! Once again, sorry for the delay. I've actually been having a really awful, terrible, nauseating day and since I ****couldn't bring cheer unto myself, I have brought it to you instead! After all, you readers are what motivate me to continue this and your feedback is undoubtedly the highlight of my week. I mean, seriously, with people as gracious and warm as you guys who needs a boyfriend? **

**I guess what I'm trying to say is, thank you everyone. I had a bad day today, but the thought of you guys quickly banished that feeling of morose that I had.**

**Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! I think it was a bit of a doozy and, wow, the first kiss sucked dint it? Too chaste but, let's not rush, if you guys don't mind. **

**And sorry if their conversation had a medieval feel to it. I was watching The Tudors last week and still a bit hung up on it. Just let me know if it's too rollercoaster-y for you guys and I'll edit it. Cause no one but me edits it and I was too lazy to this time.**

**Lots of love and hugs guys! **


	4. Chapter 3

"All right, first time we had a run-in, I proposed. The second time, you proposed. This makes our third run-in, in which we are alone," he waggled his eyebrows, "and so, it makes it my turn to propose."

"Oh, not this again."

Draco smirked.

"_Yes_, this again."

Hermione sighed.

"I am trying to _work_."

"Well, I am trying to _propose_. Now I know your proposal is hard to beat, over the cake war that we had and the first time I proposed I merely stated it. But I am a Malfoy, therefore, I always win."

She huffed, she really needed to beat this deadline and she would, if she could just locate the final pages of the report she had been working on. It was up to her and this report to close the case after all.

"Please, please, _please_, Malfoy. Bother me any other day but just not _today_." She ducked under her desk. "I'm sort of busy right now – which, by the way I should remind you, so should _you _be! – and though I really like besting you, now is not the time. I've lost some of the most valuable pages of my report–"

"What, you mean these?" He said, holding said papers as far to the edge as he could, seeing as how they were completely drenched in coffee.

"WHERE?" She demanded, still under the desk and in her excitement, consequently bumped her head on her way up. She groaned when she emerged from that _evil _hole (glaring at it heatedly) and Malfoy had to stifle his laughter lest she direct her glare to him.

When she did look at him, sans glare, she cried "Oh no!" with her mouth hung open, horrified. "My report!"

Malfoy looked confused for a moment before saying, "Whoa, I am experiencing great déjà vu right now." He touched his head. "I remember that same tone of your voice, screeching the same thing except about an _essay_, scrambling for your wand (much like you're doing now) shouting–"

"Scourgify! Dammit, _SCOURGIFY_!"

"–then more shouting–"

"MALFOY!"

"–Gods, if you shout my name like that when you're angry, what more when we're in the throes of passion–"

"YOU _RUINED _MY _REPORT_!"

Malfoy looked at her incredulously. "Seriously I am experiencing _extreme _déjà vu right now." He shook his head. "Anyway, I didn't really do anything except point them out to you, love."

Exasperated at the fact that he was right, she said, "Look, I really don't have time for this today and if you insist on these bloody proposals, how 'bout we make a deal."

"And what does this deal entail?"

"No more proposals from you–"

"_What_?"

"–_unless_" she gave him a pointedly disapproving stare for interrupting her, "I get to give the signal as to when you can propose to me, the next time we have a run in."

He pouted. "That's completely unfair, what if you forget and _never_ give the signal."

Hermione, almost affectionately like a devoted owner would to its cat, patted his cheek and said, "As if you would ever let me forget, Malfoy."

His eyes lit up at that and he clapped his hands. "You're right, you're absolutely right. I knew I made the right choice in you being my future wife."

"And who says I didn't choose _you_?"

"To be what, _your _future wife? Are you swinging _that way _now?"

"Draco, don't be obtuse." She tutted. She glanced at her watch and sighed, she had but fifteen minutes left to get the report to her boss and beat the deadline. Good thing it only took her less than two minutes total to get to his office seeing as the DCMC was but one section of the floor with her boss' office being three doors down her own. Hermione's office was the last in the hall while the one immediately next to hers belonged to Pansy. Each girl had their own offices as a reward for the valuable work they put into the department and their conversely, high positions. Hermione as the Assistant Head to the department and Pansy…

Well, Pansy was more like her assistant. As she thought about it, Pansy probably just paid the Ministry ridiculous amounts of money to have her own office. The girl, admittedly, was a hard worker of course. But no way would she work as hard if she had to sit with the rest of the department staff who were resigned to cubicles clustered all over the rest of the space.

She'd probably _AK _anyone who annoyed her with their quirks and Pansy wasn't exactly the most patient person.

Hermione paused.

Perhaps it was best she had her own office after all.

As to the matter of the third office, however, it belonged to none other than…

Draco was smiling in feigned relief when he said, "As long as you're swinging my way, we're all good really."

She sighed, speaking of which. "We're digressing."

Swinging the direction of the conversation to their initial topic, she stuck out her hand. "Do we have an accord?"

He took her hand but instead of shaking it, he bent low and brought it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss upon her knuckles, much like he did that night in the woods of the Burrow. It unwillingly sent chills throughout her body. She tried not to show it by clearing her throat and stiffening her shoulders but by the smirk on his lips and the way he was eyeing her from his still bowed position, he was not fooled.

She withdrew her hand.

"Why can't you just shake my hand like a normal, _sane_, person?"

"Because Granger, I'm so _crazy_ for you that my senses just take their leave whenever I'm near you!" He said in a saccharine tone. "I'm _so _glad we're to be married."

She looked at the bane of her existence with an alarming amount of exasperation on her face. Was he seriously starting to believe they were getting married?

Well, she thought, maybe I ought to be concerned about his sanity after all.

She looked at her watch and saw she now had less than ten minutes to get to her boss' office, all cause of her supposedly 'future husband' and his weird, psycho way of thinking.

"Oh to hell with it," she muttered.

Hermione resigned herself to her fate. He was, after all, exceedingly good at cleansing charms that she might as well get some use out him while he was there. It's just as well she play along lest he have an episode or something.

She always played along anyway.

"Draco dear, please Scourgify my documents of the coffee so that I may be on my way."

Draco beamed at the endearment, evidently very pleased, and with a flick of his wand, her report was free of any stains at all. "Thank you." She mumbled as he opened the door for her. There would be no episode from him today, it seemed. Thank Merlin for that, she thought.

"Anytime, Granger." He pecked her on the cheek before tipping his hat towards her, much to her surprise. She touched her cheek.

"Good luck with your reports!"

He sauntered to the direction of his office and she, despite his shocking gesture at his departure, was about to sigh with relief when he shouted for _all and sundry to hear_,

"I SHALL EAGERLY AWAIT OUR WEDDING PROPOSAL ANNOUNCEMENT!"

Her mouth opened in horror as her co-workers began to look at her and talk, in barely-hushed tones:

"Hermione and Malfoy? Together?"

"Even more scandalous, engaged!"

"I didn't even know they were dating!"

"Must have been shagging in broom closets, if it had to be so secret."

"They couldn't very well shag on the office desk, could they!"

"A pureblood and muggleborn union? How times have changed!"

"So that's how Malfoy got his own office, shagging the boss' assistant!"

She glared at that one.

A few of her co-workers even dared to congratulate and hug her when really, she wanted to pummel her _questionably _future-husband considering he would survive her wrath.

And _then_, she was going to pummel herself for even beginning to associate the term 'future-husband' with the blond ferret! Since when was she thinking of _him _as _that _to her?

Ugh, he was getting to her more and more in their, she shuddered, shared workplace. And he hadn't even been on for more than _two weeks!_

The clock struck ten am, it was officially the deadline of her report.

Malfoy was going to drive her batty, but she was determined all the same to get him to _not _propose as much as possible.

She had a feeling he knew that and would try to thwart her anyway.

She sighed.

So much for beating that deadline.

* * *

"So…" Pansy started glibly, spearing some lettuce onto her fork. They were on their lunch break in one of Pansy's favorite, midscale restaurants. (By midscale it meant it was fancy enough in food and atmosphere to appease Pansy's lavish tastes but quite modest enough in staff and prices to satisfy Hermione's)

"You and Malfoy, huh?"

Hermione dropped her utensil.

"I've no idea what you're talking about Pansy, there is no Malfoy _and me_."

"But you guys in the wedding!" She cooed, grinning madly. "And don't even get me started with the sexual tension in the office!"

Hermione's eye twitched. "The only tension I'm getting is the one in my neck and at the back at my head, from this conversation." She rubbed her temples and muttered, "I think my blood pressure is up again."

"Well you want to know what _I _think?"

"Not really, but you're going to tell me anyway, I can tell. You have that look on your face."

"What look?" She asked coyly, "The seemingly-demure-and-modest-but-really-wise-and-cl ever one?"

"No, the you're-going-to-shit-yourself-if-you-don't-tell-me , one."

Pansy dropped her own fork.

"Hermione Granger! _Language!_"

Said Granger merely snickered. "You sound like my father."

Pansy, presumably about to continue her tirade, paused and asked instead, "Father?"

Hermione shrugged. "Mum was a flower child. She wasn't much of a disciplinary figure. She would rather suffocate you with her hugs, peace, love and rock and roll." She paused. "And drugs, of course."

"_Drugs?_"

"Well, those were only if I was really laying the temper on thick. You know how stubborn I get."

Pansy stared at her. _Hard_.

"You're joking. You would never, not in a million years and a million lifetimes, ever seriously admit your bullheadedness."

She grinned.

"Right on, Pans. Anyway, dad was the disciplinarian. Mum was the mediator. I'm more like him than she'd like me to be."

"Which means you inherited his headstrong personality, and I presume, your hairiness. Honestly Hermione, when was the last time you had your legs shaved? A haircut? Don't even get me started on the atrocity of your _eyebrows_–"

"Thanks for that Pansy, next time I need a confidence boost I definitely know who to _not _call." She answered dryly while attempting to inconspicuously rub her legs.

"Anyway, as I was trying to say, for all that bravery your house boasted back in Hogwarts, I think you're _scared_."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Scared? What could I possibly be scared of?"

"Relationships, Hermione. Of opening yourself up to someone, of _loving_–"

"I'm open and loving! I certainly opened myself up to you!"

Pansy shook her head.

"Alright then, of opening yourself up to a _man _and falling in love."

"Ha! What is this Pans, a therapy session now?"

Pansy shook her head, suddenly very serious.

"Hermione… you've been taking care of everyone around you for so long that you've developed a way to live without having to prioritize your needs. I mean, if you could solve everyone else's problems, what's the point of facing yours? You don't want to be taken care of because, you feel you don't really need to be. Am I right?"

Hermione grew quiet and pensive.

Could it be? Was she so against the idea of opening up to someone and, dare she think it, falling _in love_, because she didn't want to seem like she needed someone? She had been taking care of each one of her friends for as long as she had known them, from Neville finding his toad on that first ride on the Hogwarts Express to locating the Horcruxes with Harry and Ron, then fighting alongside her dearest friends in the war.

Pansy continued, smiling sadly.

"I think you wouldn't know what to do with yourself if someone decided they wanted to take care of _you_. What's troubling you more, I think, is that you know this and some part of you wants that someone to be Malfoy, you know?"

Hermione's head, from staring sullenly at the table top, snapped right to Pansy's. She groaned.

"Merlin, does that man even have to follow me _everywhere_? In what universe does Malfoy equate to being, The One?"

Hermione dropped her head onto the table and began to lightly bump her head against it.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Hermione! Stop it!"

To Pansy's relief, she did stop the banging, but remained with her head face down on the table and her hands over them.

"Can we stop with the psycho-analysis now?" Hermione moaned.

Pansy sighed. "Fine, I see Draco has a way of getting under your skin. And for the record, I didn't say he was 'The One' for you." Pansy gave her a pointed glance (which she ignored), then she paused. "Getting under your skin wouldn't be so bad if you just let him, you know, _get under you_, if you catch my drift."

Hermione shot up into a sitting position again, mouth agape in incredulous disbelief.

"_Pansy!_"

Catch my drift indeed, she was about as subtle as a buffalo stampede.

Her friend merely grinned, "Alright, alright, I'll stop. As if you weren't thinking it anyway."

Hermione covered her face, "_Pansy, _what is _wrong with you_?"

Laughing, she said. "Ok, since you obviously need a break from this Slytherin madness, how about I set you up?"

More incredulous disbelief.

"This is your way of getting me to stop thinking about a man, setting me up with another one?"

"He won't be a Slytherin, I swear!"

Hermione closed her eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that you know so few men outside of Slytherin and those few are complete and utter gits?"

Boy, she thought, am I getting a lot of feelings today.

"Say yes, Hermione. You always do."

She tried resisting a few more, but really, it was Pansy and who was she kidding?

"I never could deny you."

"You didn't even stand a chance."

"Friend my arse."

"_Best _friend." She corrected. Hermione rolled her eyes and hid a smile behind her napkin.

"Well, what time and what should I wear?"

Pansy clapped her hands.

"Excellent!"

"I really hope this works, any more Malfoy in my system and I think I might explode."

Pansy nodded in agreement and patted her hand.

"He does have a stupid way of making you feel like that."

Hermione sighed, "Indeed."

* * *

**A/N: So not much happened in this chapter, it's more like a filler for the next one, The Date!**

**Yaaaaaay!**

**On a more embarrassing note, I need your help. I, swishandflickwit, of ten-and-eight years have never been on a date. As you can tell by the title of the next chapter, a good date is imperative to the plot. Now, where do you come in, is what you ask?**

**Well, what are your ideas of a perfect date? **

**I'll see you all soon but, till the next installment, perhaps some… reviews?**

**(Shameless review whore, but on that note, I bid you all adieu, lovelies!)**


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